


One Hundred Percent

by Pinkmanite



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Drabble, Gen, High School AU, Kind of AU, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkmanite/pseuds/Pinkmanite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Jesse denies the fact that he’s working so hard just to please Mr. White. There’s other pros to doing well than that sunny feeling he gets when Mr. White pats him on the back. He shakes his head and laughs because that’s a huge fucking lie. Jesse decides that he’s delusional and his craving for Mr. White’s praise is probably really fucking gay.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Not necessarily slash, somewhat one-sided Walt/Jesse (on Jesse's part). Takes place pre-series, when Jesse is a seventeen-year-old in Mr. White's chemistry class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Hundred Percent

Jesse tries to hide the fact that he's blushing bright red when Mr. White tells him that his rate of improvement is spectacular. Anyone would agree that it's a real honor to get any kind of recognition from hardass Mr. White. Jesse tucks away the swell of pride that it's _him_ , Jesse Bruce Pinkman, receiving that honor, not that bitch valedictorian-hopeful and not some genius nerd kid. It's _Jesse Pinkman_ who has earned Mr. White's praise.

It's then that Jesse silently promises to do all of his work to the best of his ability. He made it this far and there's no way he can revert back to habitual slacking off. Now Mr. White knew what he was really capable of and he probably expected nothing less of him. With great grades come great responsibilities... or something like that.

Jesse manages to keep up a consistent habit of actually doing his chemistry work and proudly turning it in on time. Mr. White’s scrawled “100%”s start to become familiar and that’s what pushes Jesse along. He’s on a roll here, can’t lose out _now._

About a month later, Mr. White calls Jesse out and asks him to stay after class. The boy fidgets, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, fingertips firmly pressing the flesh white. Mr. White motions for him to take a seat near his desk, so Jesse obeys. He swallows when Mr. White pulls out a copy of the last test.

“It’s alright, Jesse, it’s not that bad, take a deep breath,” says Mr. White. Jesse tries to take his advice, but he’s panicking because _man_ , he actually put work into that test. Mr. White must have sensed Jesse’s panic because he places a reassuring hand on Jesse’s shoulder and offers a half smile. Jesse tenses briefly but eventually relaxes into the touch.

“Now, for this test. You were just shy of a B. Seventy-eight percent isn’t bad, Jesse, but we both know that you know this material. I just wanted to touch base with you and maybe go over this because the next chapter is only going to build on this and I just want you to be prepared for it. Is that alright?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks, Mr. White.”

It’s not long before they’ve gone through the entire test. Mr. White is pleased to find out that there was a scantron error that allows Jesse to earn back the one point he needed to get his score into the B-range. Most of his mistakes are stupid ones; miscalculations or hasty misinterpretations of the question. Jesse leaves their study session with much more confidence, especially after Mr. White tells him that he’s on the right track.

Jesse denies the fact that he’s working so hard to please Mr. White. There’s other pros to doing well than that sunny feeling he gets when Mr. White pats him on the back. Like his parents realizing that he’s not totally braindead. Well, that _would_ be a pro when they actually got around to looking at his report card, but the thought’s enough for Jesse to convince himself that he isn’t doing this for Mr. White.

Deep down he knows that he’s outright lying to himself. When Jesse lays restless at night, unable to fall asleep, there’s a little a part of him that’s ready to admit that all he really wants is Mr. White’s approval. Jesse reasons that it’s _not_ weird, that _everyone_ at Wynne probably wants Mr. White’s approval. Or maybe because it’s a challenge and Jesse likes taking on challenges.

He shakes his head and laughs because that’s a _huge fucking lie_.

In the end, Jesse tiredly decides that he’s delusional and his craving for Mr. White’s praise is probably really fucking gay.

It’s December, nearly two months later, when Jesse’s Aunt Ginny is diagnosed with Stage III Lung Cancer. Jesse’s parents tell him that at age sixteen, Jesse would make a decent home nurse, at least at this stage. Jesse thinks that it’s a damn good excuse to send him away. He knows that it’s really because he can’t stop fighting with his mom, but Jesse doesn’t argue this time. Maybe it really is for the best.

Jesse’s academic regression doesn’t reveal itself until a few months later. March is a groggy month that only drags on. The end of the grading period looms ahead but it’s too far ahead to panic about. However, a blaring red “F” on Jesse’s midterm lab report raises a red flag.

When Mr. White pulls him aside, Jesse rolls his eyes. Mr. White isn’t smiling and trying to alleviate the situation this time. He sighs and makes a gesture for Jesse to have a seat. Maybe he’s being too harsh, but he lets the packet fall with a “plop” in front of his student.

Jesse lazily glances at the wrinkled papers then back at Mr. White. He’s giving him _that look_ , the one that says “what do you have to say for yourself, young man?” and “I can’t believe this bullshit.” It’s the look that Jesse is accustomed to seeing plastered on his father’s face. Jesse frowns at the comparison.

“Well?” Mr. White gestures at the packet. “Care to explain?”

“No,” Jesse shrugs. He looks to the clock, then the door, then back to Mr. White. “How long do you think this will take?”

Mr. White scowls. Jesse knows what he’s thinking. He’s probably thinking about all the time he wasted with private tutoring sessions with this kid, probably realizing that Jesse was always destined for failure. He’s probably finally opening up his eyes and seeing what kind of kid Jesse Pinkman really is.

“Come on, Jesse, I know you’re better than this.”

Mr. White yells at him to come back and sit down because he’s trying to help him, because Jesse has the potential to do so much better, but Jesse leaves anyway.

It isn’t until ten years later that Jesse remembers the tingling feeling that accompanies Mr. White’s praise. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this was actually a warmup so I could get the feel of high school aged Jesse because I've got big plans for a multi-chapter, teen!Jesse story! That said, any and all feedback is very, _very_ much appreciated. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! (funfact: this drabble is 1000 words exactly, _hashtag holla_ )


End file.
